Incalescent
by peterquill
Summary: Paul closed his eyes, and if he concentrated long enough, he could almost imagine her next to him. One-Shot. Edited and revised.


Things could be worse, Paul justified. She could be across the country. But she was only across the state - as if that was any fucking better.

He bought a cell phone just for her.

_You should get a phone for yourself,_ she had frowned at him. _Don't waste your money on me. _

But after pulling out his hunk of Samsung junk, she squinted at it and shrugged. It wasn't anything fancy, not that he liked fancy. He'd never had a cell phone before, but it was the only way to keep constant contact with her.

He broke it the first time he phased because he forgot it was in his pocket. He was so nervous that Angela would call him or text him or just fucking _need_ him that he ran straight to her house when he was suppose to be patrolling the area, only to discover that she was home alone, watching a movie and eating left overs – very much alive and in no need for him at all. To ease his worried heart, she gave him a cookie and a hug. He pecked her cheek and promised he'd get another phone first thing the next day.

He treated the next phone with more care than before, making sure he put it in a safe place before he shifted. Like hell if he was ever going to lose contact with Angela again.

There was a lot of nice stuff that came with having a cell phone. Like calling anyone he wanted to at the moment he wanted to call them. If he wanted to call off of work, he damn well could. If he wanted to order five pizzas without getting off the couch, he could feel like a goddamn king with his feet up and remote in hand, and do just that. He could even call Sam and his other pack brothers, though the younger guys didn't like it too much.

"Texting _is_ better," Seth finally told him, and Paul felt like an idiot.

But then he had to figure out how to text, and that was entirely different train wreck and overall not a very pleasant experience. He hated change, even if it was minor.

He had to pay for another phone plan.

Cell phones were kind of like the telepathy he shared with his brothers while they were wolves, only better, because you could chose what you wanted to say and not have your entire brain laid out for others to examine. It was also worse, because you couldn't really tell what tone of voice the other was using and how the hell could he have known that "k" meant "this conversation is now over?"

Texting was better when it was with Angela. She was undeniably sweet and made him feel quite warm and lovely whenever she texted him. Like he was special, even it was something as simple as a "xo." Paul felt more comfortable calling her because he liked the sound of her voice, but texted her because she liked it. Who know entire conversations could go on like this?

He had to buy another cell plan. (Fuck phone companies, man.)

His mood about it turned around when he found out about _sexting_.

"It's kinda..." Angela gave a vague shrug.

"_Sexy?_" She sipped at her drink. "C'mon, it's just us."

"Yeah... It's just - I don't know." She laughed. "Would you believe it if I told you I was nervous of the other guys getting a hold of your cell?" Paul frowned; he hadn't thought about that.

It was a couple of hours since that conversation that he received a message from Angela. He had just assumed that she wasn't interested in it at all, which he could understand. And, after all, nothing was better than the real thing. But after opening the picture, he stared at it a moment before dropping the phone.

"Never saw you in that angle before," he breathed into her ear a mere hour later. She grinned.

"Well, you're very welcome - I took probably fifty pictures to have the perfect shot. So."

"You should be a photographer."

"And you should be taking off your pants."

However, no matter how many conversations and calls they would have to tighten the distance, they amounted to ant hills in the end. Nothing was the same when she wasn't near him, and as of right now, she was in Newport visiting her grandma.

He could call her right now, but he remembered when Angela stressed just one word to him when they started dating: _space_.

Though he was pretty shit at it, he understood. He obeyed, even if he really didn't want to sometimes. He blamed the Imprint when it got out of hand, but sometimes there was no excuse for his behavior. But he usually respected Angela's wishes more than his own desires, and was sometimes grateful for the time apart as well. It was a chance to breathe and remember they were their own persons.

It was usually all good.

Until it wasn't.

Paul couldn't stop thinking about her.

He was laying in bed, staring at the ceiling as he was trying to go to sleep. But Angela didn't text him all day, and he was getting really anxious.

He told himself when to breathe. He fought the urge valiantly - for perhaps two more minutes. And then he just couldn't take it any longer.

"Paul?" Angela whispered. It was past midnight.

"Yeah. Hey." He waited for her to respond, and internally cringed. "Is this...a bad time?"

"Well. No. It's just that _Wiggle_ blasted out of my phone, and these walls are paper-thin."

He laughed. "Wait, so that's my ringtone?"

"Yes, and Gammy wouldn't approve. I should probably change it to _Friday_."

"Please don't do that."

"I won't," she said with a smile in her voice. "So... There wasn't any real reason why you called, huh?"

"Uh."

"No vampire attacks?"

"No?"

"No virus outbreaks?"

"No..."

"Hm," she thought aloud. "So...?"

"So." _I really fucking miss you._ "How was your day with your grandma?"

"Good. She taught me how to make these really good cookies with peanut butter - you'll like them."

"Hell yeah." Silence was nothing new during their phone calls, and he breathed in it for a few moments. "Um. What are you wearing?"

She snorted. "_Really?_ I'm at Gammy's!"

"Ange, if I wanted to know what your grandma was wearing, I would have asked."

"Please never do."

He laughed. "And...? What's it this time, Fruit of the Loom or Victoria's Secret?"

"Maybe a bit of both."

Paul closed his eyes, and if he concentrated long enough, he could almost imagine her next to him. "Go on," he said with a smile.

"I'm not going into detail."

"What a shame. I feel like Grandma would be proud of our healthy sex life."

"I don't think it's entirely 'healthy.'"

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, Angela."

She snorted again. "I'm sorry. I don't want to break that very fragile heart of yours."

Paul pretended to sniff. "It's very delicate."

She laughed again, and he thought about the way her hair spilled on his sheets. "So, today Gammy took me underwear shopping, which was kind of embarrassing and kind of awesome. And she bought this really nice bra at VS for like, forty dollars. It's pink, with some black lace."

"A new bra? Sounds _exciting_."

"Shut up, it really is!"

"No, I'm being serious! It's for sure, like, _totally_ awesome. Girl."

"Don't be such a jerk. Or you sure as hell aren't ever going to see this very cute bra."

"How could you."

They laughed together for a while.

"I miss you," he finally said. He was always the first to say it.

"I know." She paused. "I missed you, too."

"Really?" He could feel himself grin.

"Yeah. Even though it's only been, like, two days."

"You know I could run to you and be there in less than an hour."

She paused for a moments, and Paul began to think she was actually thinking about it. "I...know. But when I get back, it'll make it better, you know?"

He sighed, disgruntled. "Yeah. I do."

"Don't be so sour. Would it make you feel better to know that I took my _very sexy bra_ off?"

He tried not to jump the gun too quickly, and gripped the sheets. "That's too bad. I didn't even get to see it."

"Funny. Hm. What... What would you have done if it was still on?"

"Taken it off." She laughed at his short answer, but knew that wasn't quite the answer either of them wanted to hear. "I would have slipped the straps off. First one, then the other. Kissed your shoulders. Especially your freckles."

"I remember that one time when you traced them with your tongue."

_Jesus_. "Yeah, me too. Would you want me to do that, too?"

"Yes. In turn, I'd touch you... Your arms. Run my hands over your skin." Paul felt goosebumps pop on his flesh as if she were right there next to him, touching him in the exact way she painted in his mind. "I swear you use my lotion because your skin is super soft."

"Shit." He breathed, or tried to. "Please tell me you're not trying to distract me for being distracted. It's very distracting"

She laughed. "You're a big baby."

"I really am."

"I can't imagine what the guys will say if they knew how much of a teddy bear you are."

"For the love of God, Ange, you're the shittiest person ever right now."

"As if you're the only one who's sexually frustrated."

"And your panties...?"

"Ugh, so wet."

"Holy shit."

"Not really, dummy, oh my God."

"I am literally going to tear this phone in half."

"Then you won't get that picture I sent you."

"Please let it be a nude," Paul muttered as he quickly tried to navigate keeping their call on while searching for the picture message."Please let it be some tits."

"Ugh, Paul. Gross."

"Fortunately for you, that's my middle name."

"I thought it was Alexander."

"That's 'gross' in Quileute. Also, what's this I'm looking at?"

"My nice bra," she said, trying to hold back her giddy giggling she always did whenever she sent him a picture.

"Yeah, _without_ you in it. Or a picture with it _not_ on you. This is torture."

"Good," she giggled.

"You're supposed to be a Reverend's daughter, but instead I feel like I'm dating the Devil's advocate."

"You'll manage."

"I miss you."

"Yeah. Me too." She paused. "Hey, you said we were dating."

"I did."

"Not that I'm your Imprint."

"Right."

She stayed silent for a few moments, but it was like he could practically feel her grin. Convincing him to say that they were dating rather than saying she was his Imprint was a hurdle he need to jump over. She was a very firm believer in choosing your own destiny, even if the hands you were dealt with were completely outside of your control.

_"I'm either your girlfriend or I'm Angela,"_ she had said with a frown. She frowned so much during those first few months of their relationship. He tried so hard to be perfect and do everything he could for her when all she wanted was him.

_"Why can't you understand that it doesn't work like that," _he snapped during their first real argument. _"It's something beyond my control. I can't help it."_

_"But you can. Didn't you say that you can be anything to me?"_ Her eyes were balls of fury, but still so goddamn beautiful. _"Well, I want you to be you. Don't change for me. If what you're saying is true, I'm not going anywhere."_

And, true to her word, here she was, talking to him on phone at almost one in the morning.

"Paul? Are you touching yourself?" she asked, and the tone of her voice made him burst out laughing.

"_No_."

"Well. I am."

"Ange..."

"Really! I'm massaging my foot because, wouldn't you know it, but my flat feet do not do well – "

"I'm literally going to fuck you as soon as I see you, Jesus Christ."

"Oh?" Her voice low, his pulse raced. "That's a bit rash."

"It's how I feel," he responded just as soft. _I need my girl._

"Feelings change. Are you sure you're going to go through with it, Lahote?"

"My feelings for you will never change, Ange," he said seriously. "And I am with 100-percent certainty going to fuck you…as soon as you escape your parents and I have a day off from patrolling."

"Sounds good Lahote. I can't wait."

Paul never used to make this many jokes. He had a sense of humor, but after he started dating Angela, he could really appreciate a quick wit. He really loved her for it.

The first time he said he loved her was the first time he met her. During a bonfire at Sam's, Bella dragged her out to meet her boyfriend, Jacob, and his friends. One of those friends happened to be him, the big-mouthed, dirty and brash idiot that gapped at her when she asked him if he was mentally retarded.

_"Holy shit, I think I'm in love with you,"_ he had said with a fish-out-of-water expression.

_"Holy shit, I'm leaving," _was her response as she turned her heel to follow . The rest of the party, he spent half his time staring at her from the corner of his eyes and the other half asking Bella about her.

_"What grade is she in? You know her from school, so she must be a senior, too. 18 isn't too old for a 16-year-old, right? She – "_

"_Why don't you_ ask _her,"_ Bella said, frustrated.

Angela apparently didn't appreciate the suggestion because then he was stalking her and asking her really stupid questions like, _"Why do you wear glasses?"_

_"For fashion purposes," _she said at a time when saying something that sarcastic went over his head.

_"You'd look better without them, honestly,"_ he said, which coincidentally, was the same time he didn't understand that honesty with your Imprint wasn't exactly always that great.

Thankfully, when Paul finally bothered her enough, she gave him her number. He was too nervous to call for a week until he finally broke down one late Saturday night.

_"Do you really wear glasses for fashion?"_ he had asked, on his bed, staring up at his bedroom ceiling as he thought about her perfect eyes.

_"Do you really have a thick skull?" _she asked, and honest to God, that was first time he laughed that hard in a long time.

"What're you thinking so hard about?" Angela asked, yawning.

"I'm thinking about the first time we met."

"Ugh, gross."

"Thanks."

"Really! You were so weird, Paul. Thank God first impressions don't always count."

"I wasn't that bad…"

"You said you loved me, which at the time, was really creepy."

Paul laughed, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. "That was forever ago, Ange."

"More like six months ago."

"What if I told you I loved you now?"

Angela fell into silence. Paul's heart hammered in his chest, and he cleared his throat. "Well?"

"I'd say that it's too soon to say you love somebody."

"What if I know, without any uncertainty, that I really love you?"

"I - …Paul."

He knew it was shitty, but he couldn't help but feel a little shaken up. This wasn't the first time they talked about the subject of love.

"It's late," she said when the silence stretched for too long.

"Yeah." It felt like he got punch in the gut. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. I'll come by around eight, okay?"

"Alright." He nearly hung up when he heard her whisper, "I love you, you know."

"What?"

"It's… I wanted to tell you differently, like face-to-face for starters, but I – "

"I love you, too."

"Yeah?" God, her smile was heart breaking.

"Of course."

"I'm going to hang up now," she whispered.

"Okay."

When the line went dead, he stared at the ceiling for a long time.

There were a lot of nice stuff that came with having a cell phone. Thank God he finally had one.

* * *

><p><strong>Reviews are the cheery on top.<strong>


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